


My Turn

by Loraliah



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Other, feels for this boy okay, kind of angst, ray's route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 07:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loraliah/pseuds/Loraliah
Summary: I wrote this when I was having so many feels for my boy. ;v; Sappy, I know, but fight me lol





	My Turn

He can see her, every single day, walking the same path a dozen times as if time is standing still for him, and not for her. It’s like a film being clicked to rewind after a certain moment has been captured, and he is the only one allowed to see it happen again. Like he is being forced to see it happen again.

It’s like ice in his veins when he sees her look down at the phone in her hands, for what seems to be the millionth time, seeing a message that he himself has typed out so many times, his thumbs only move on their own at this point. Her face contorts in confusion and it takes all there is in him to not roll his eyes; he knows this is new for her, now, despite it not being so for him.

He knows what’s going to happen next. There are only so many options at this point.

And he has to stay stuck on repeat like this every time as well.

Like watching a movie from the front row in the theater, everything plays over and over again. He sees her walk off with the blonde, with the actor, with the workaholic; even with his mirror image from time to time. All it ever does is leave a sour taste in his mouth and a scowl on his lips as he just turns and walks back to the beginning. Everything around him goes in reverse, setting the clock back those eleven days when it’s been the longest.

All he has to do is send the message once again, and it all starts over for him.

He’s tired. He’s frustrated.

But most of all, he feels alone.

He sees these beings who are the same as him, stuck just like him, get so much love and care from her; kind words through a messenger that they can literally feel the warmth emanate from. Even so far as to actually hold her and feel her, if only for a brief moment.

Sometimes, yes, he has those moments as well, where his hands can finally touch her; but he’s programed. His moves are calculated and not his own choosing. He has to be could and manipulative; he has to literally hurt her.

That isn’t what he wants to do.

He wants to hold her, run his fingers through her hair, just like they all get to. He wants to let out that deep sigh that one can only have when they finally feel at rest and where they deeply belong.

He wants that. He’s dying for it.

***

Everything just repeats over and over again, til one day, it seems to come to a complete stand-still. He doesn’t see her anymore, and it feels like it’s all in a fog; like being paused on the ending scene and not letting it complete.

He doesn’t see or hear anything, not even the faintest sounds of the messenger or the ringing that usually occurs. No tapping, no clicking nails, nothing.

The silence is so deafening it feels like his head would explode.

But then, he notices something is changing around him. Like the world was wiped clean; reset. The colors are changing, and despite the pixelation that is only momentary, everything is different.

He’s in what looks like a garden now; something he had always dreamed about when he was young. Somewhere, deep down, he knew this was the right place for him; somewhere that felt that was his.

He recognized the buildings around the garden; Magenta. But he never knew a garden like this could exist in such a place. It made the building seem…less lonely. Less dark. Not even a moment later, however, he discovered even his clothing had changed on him; where did this magenta coat even come from?

But what made him still all together, causing his mind to reel, was his phone in his pocket. A message had been sent to him this time…and it was from her.

“Wait for me.”

He could feel the smile breaking across his lips as he clutched the phone so tightly he could have cracked it in two. He turned his head towards the blue sky, hold the small device to his chest.

“Finally…it’s my turn.”

***


End file.
